Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars
by jaguar-kally7
Summary: Childhood games give way to just plain games as Aaren Hawkins finds out just how much growing up can turn the person she trusts the most into a complete stranger. The only thing constant, on a voyage across galaxies and back, is change.
1. Shells 1

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars 

-Clarification/Introduction-

Hello, there... I'd be sincerely surprised to find you reading this, because I don't have as big a following as a lot of other authors here. But it's fanfiction for fanfiction's sake, so here I am anyway.

If you're looking for swashbuckling, romantic young Jim Hawkins, then maybe you should look for another story plug like No Ordinary Voyage end plug, because this story mainly uses original characters at its center. It does, however, take place in the world of Treasure Planet and is hence classified as fanfiction - it wouldn't be fair to Disney if I used their ideas and characters and claimed them as my own. And while this story may serve as a sequel to No Ordinary Voyage, it is quite capable of standing alone.

Let's get on with it, then. Thanks for at least getting through the boring introduction.

-1-

At dusk, when the sun was half-covered by the horizon and the sky was purple and blue, two children stood on the shores of Mirandus's ocean, holding hands and watching the stars come out.

One was a little girl, with hair that was golden brown like honey, and eyes that were blue-violet like the Mirandus dolphins. Even at five years old, Aaren Sophia had eyes that were always calculating, always quick - darting back and forth, sucking up every detail on the scene, wary of anything that could ruin her day. They were eyes full of questions about the very, very big world. Her head, however, was full of stories of treasure, pirates, and space - stories her father, Captain James Pleiades Hawkins, had told her at breakfast, lunch, dinner, bedtime, and any other time she clamored for one.

The other child was a little boy, also five years old, and an inch or two shorter. His hair, uncombed and dry after a swim in the ocean, was jet black like the stone spearheads used by the palace guards. His eyes, however, where what his father called summer green. Unlike Aaren, Marko usually wore an expression of calm, and the little smile that played at the corners of his lips said that his day couldn't get any better. This morning, however, his mother, Queen Felixa, had told him at breakfast not a tale of stars and galaxies, but the news that his best friend in the whole widening etherium, Aaren, was going home to Montressor tomorrow, and he now looked just as puzzled and worried as she.

He wiggled his toes in the wet sand as the ends of the waves rolled up to meet them, and he looked thoughtfully at the colored stones and shells at his feet. It had been a wonderful summer of collecting such shells and stones, of hide-and-seek and tag with the guards in the courtyard, and making up stories while sitting on the edge of the secret lagoon and splashing the water with their toes. He pouted at the thought that it was going to end so soon.

"Do you really have to leave?" he asked Aaren again.

She sighed, pouting too. She was about to cry, and while Marko knew she didn't like him to watch her cry, he looked at her anyway. She balled up a chubby fist, wiped her eyes across across the back of her hand, and nodded.

"Yeah," she answered.

Marko squatted in the sand, and because he was still holding Aaren's hand, she was pulled down to sit next to him. He absent-mindedly picked up and tossed pebbles into the sea and sighed. "Who's gonna play with me and Lakan then?"

Aaren shrugged. "You can play without me..."

Her playmate's brows furrowed. "But it won't be fun." Aaren feebly replied that it would, but he persisted, "Not fun like when you're here..."

She sighed this time and wiggled her toes. She looked away, to the side. "Daddy says I have to go, because I'm gonna go to school now. So - so I won't get to play with him, either. He said the gob - gobbermen will get mad if I'm in space with him like before. Daddy's gonna be sad, too."

Marko nodded. "Mama said something about school, too. Mama said she'll teach me stuff, and - and Gerard, the funny man in her lie-barry? He's gonna teach me stuff about numbers, and what's in all the books." His eyes brightened, and his smile returned for a moment as an idea swept into his young mind. "You could go to school with me here, Aaren! Mama and Gerard will teach the two of us!"

But Aaren shook her head, and Marko's smile eyes dimmed. "Daddy says he can see me lots of times if I stay with Auntie Manda in Montressor. If I stay here, he can only come like we come at summer, just ONE time... I'll miss my daddy, Marko."

Marko frowned and let go of her hand. He crossed his arms, looking comical to his parents in the lean-to not far off, but quite serious to himself and to Aaren, to whom he turned his back. "You're not gonna miss me, then."

Aaren puffed up her cheeks and smacked him on the back, right on the tattoo-like birthmark below his nape. It only made him yelp and then hunch over, tucking his chin to his chest. His pet turtle did that when he didn't wanna play. He shook his head and continued to stare at the mountains.

After pleading and pulling at his arms, Aaren found she couldn't budge her friend. Finally unable to hold back her tears, she blubbered, "I will SO miss you, Marko. You're mean!"

At the sound of her crying, Marko's resolve melted, and he turned his head to look at her. Now she was the one to cross her arms and look away. Marko stared at her in silence. Then, he edged closer to her on his knees and wrapped his arms around her neck. "I'm sorry I made you cry, Aaren," he whispered.

She sniffled and looked at him through the corner of her eye. They were cheek to cheek. And she saw he really was sorry. She sighed. "It's okay, Marko. And I'm sorry I hit you."

"It's okay, Aaren," he answered. "Just... just come back in the summer again."


	2. Shells 2

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars 

-2-

The years flew by, as swiftly as a ship on the waves of a supernova. Dad and I continued to travel to Mirandus every year; and Marko and I continued to grow.

When we were five, Marko and his father, Tito Leandro, made me a necklace with some strong cord and a stone pendant, blue violet as the sea at night. As soon as the Javelin docked and I'd scrambled down the tree it was tethered to, Marko pulled me aside and fastened it around my neck. "I picked the stone myself," he'd said proudly, "'cause Dada said it looks like your eyes. See?"

Summer ended, and I had to take off and forget the necklace because they didn't allow jewelry in my school. So, when we were six, I returned to Mirandus without it, and Marko got mad. He bullied and teased me whenever we tried to play, and it made my summer miserable. When I got home to Montressor, I searched my room for that necklace, screamed at B.E.N. and everybody else to help me find it, and threw the biggest tantrum in my life. As I kicked and pounded at the walls in frustration, the necklace was shaken off a shelf and into my lap.

When we were seven, I came back to Mirandus with that blasted necklace on. But by then, Marko had forgotten the whole incident, and we played as if nothing in the world was wrong. Still, Tita Felix gave me a small box covered with white shells to keep my necklace in when I was away at school.

At school I longed for summer, for that was when I could be with my best friend again. I'd imagine shinnying down the tree to where Marko waited at the roots. He'd grab my hand and pull me toward the market, where some local entertainers were putting on a show, or to the palace, to show me some wondrous new creation the artisans had finished, or to one of the secret lagoons, to look at the baby fish that came out at the beginning of the first summer month.

Then, during the day, we'd run around the city playing tag. Often his cousin Lakan was there to show us some new magic trick. And we'd go to the back of the kitchens, where Marko could charm cookies and sweets out of the scullery maids. I didn't feel the least bit jealous - I knew that at night, while our parents talked and laughed in a lean-to not far off, Marko and I would be sitting on a mat by the shore, whispering and laughing between us and those cookies, and we'd make up stories about the constellations as they rose...

When we were eleven, however, when I jumped out of the tree to surprise him, Marko stood there solemnly, with his arms crossed, staring coldly at me. That was how he was the whole time; while the heat of the Mirandus sun bore down on us, my best friend Marko was cold. Suddenly, he didn't want to play with me anymore, and every day, he and Lakan would run off with the other boys. Suddenly I was mercilessly teased, sneered at, and bullied. At the beginning of the summer, Marko seemed unsure about it, but as the season wore on, he got better and better at it till it seemed quite natural. "Stop following me - you're just a girl! - leave me alone - we aren't friends anymore, okay?"

When Marko stopped saying sorry for being mean and shrugging me off when I cried or fought or punched him in anger, I ran to my dad, and it was he who shared cookies with me on the shore, as the summer began to fade.

Dad had his arm around me tight as I sniffled, disappointed and hurt. I was soothed by warmth in my dad's arms and voice, but I was still troubled by the horrible vacation. I'd been generally alone and lonely the whole time...

"Don't you see, Aaren?" Dad asked me gently that night. "Marko's growing up. And you - you're growing up, too." I shook my head and wanted to say something, but he shushed me. "It's true. You're getting bigger and older with every year. You probably don't notice it in you, but haven't you noticed it in him?"

In the distance, I could see Marko with the other boys, and I could hear Lakan's voice carried across the beach - some story about etherium banshees and then a mention of my name. I scowled at Marko. Tito Leandro, his father, had blue-black hair, but more of it was in shades of cobalt and sky blue than in black. And the strange birthmark of Tito's people, the tatto-like markings that grew as they did, covered his back and arms, all the way to his fingertips.

When I looked at Marko again, I noticed at last that his hair, once jet black, now had a deep, bluish tinge to it; it was faint, but it was there. And the markings on his back, once smaller than the palm of my hand when I was five, now swirled and stretched to three times that size. I knew my father was right. Just looking at Marko told me that he was changing. I secretly wondered if he ever looked at me and saw that too...

-Author's Note-

Hey, guys, thanks for reviewing! I felt kinda surprised to get several notes for just the first chapter; it means a lot to me. I hope you'll all like where this new story will go.


	3. Shells 3

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars

-3-

When I turned twelve, things were no different between me and Marko. But because my father insisted on dragging me onto the Javelin each summer to sail to Mirandus, I had no choice but to show up there, under the tree, where Marko stood apart with his parents, his arms crossed, his mouth curled up in a sneer. He flicked his eyebrows, and I scowled. He laughed and stepped forward. Our parents had already passed us and were already walking up the stone street to the castle.

Marko roughly brushed past me to take a box from one of the crewmen, and they started joking and teasing. I stood still, still scowling, but undecided now on what I was going to do here - what WAS I doing back on this planet? As Marko and the crewmen passed me again, he swiftly swept his foot inside my ankles and tripped me. I landed on my butt, but nobody was around to help me up. Some of the boys nearby laughed and pointed, but their fishermen elders swatted them away from the scene. My face flushed, and I bit my lip. I glowered at Marko's back.

The rest of the summer was like that. I avoided Marko as much as possible, gratefully accepting some of the local girls' friendship. I was thankful that unlike my schoolmates on Montressor, Mirandus girls are not tame little creatures but intelligent, talented beings who loved good runs and climbs and swims as much as the boys. I became part of my own small pack, and every day, our laughter was offered up to the hot sun.

There were still times, however, when I had to put up with Marko. It was tradition to organize summer games for young people on Mirandus. He won the footraces, tossing me a haughty look as he crossed the finish line. I returned the look when I scaled Green Rock Wall before he did. He shrugged it off and mumbled that I was lucky, that he'd told the other guys to hold back.

During rare times that Tita Felix decided to use the dining hall in the palace, I had to sit with him. When nobody was looking in his direction, he'd flick nuts and beans at me. I never could find a time when nobody was looking in my direction, so I couldn't retaliate with anything but dirty looks.

He put crabs at the foot of my bed in my sleep. He hissed into my ear and taunted me so whenever he caught up with me. He pinched me and yanked on my hair on the nights Dad told me to unbraid it or take it out of the bandannas I'd started to wear. When I took of my necklace and threw it at his head, he dodged it, catching it neatly in his hand. And, yes, he continued to trip me. But because I never found a chance to get back at him - except for a night of frogs on his face - and because he was the Prince, I could only glare at him. But I never cried. No, no, I never cried.

This horrible treatment from my "friend" continued till we were fifteen, and that summer, it seemed that Marko thought himself too great to pick on insignificant me. With the speed, agility, strength, and wit he'd inherited from his parents, Marko Peter Simaun seized every chance he got to show it off. He could swim farther, dive deeper, run faster, and speak better than anyone else our age, and he loved every chance to rub it in my face - without causing any of his family's subjects to like him any less. Oh, no, Prince Marko was still a great favorite, and I was the only one who raised my eyebrows when they talked of his great gifts, of how down-to-earth and wonderful he was. And he could still charm cookies from the scullery maids.

I snorted. Having long given up on trying to beat him in games, I turned to other things. Like I said, I had my own friends on Mirandus, and we did things on our own. When I couldn't be with them - or when one of them started the giggling and gushing about how dreamy Prince Marko was - I talked with Lakan, who was truly grown up now. He was enjoying his summer before his last year at the ISA; I was trying to enjoy mine before my first. Marko, I'd been told, would remain on Mirandus with his friends and tutors. And when Lakan would start on Marko not being such a bad guy, or when he decided to spend a day with his girlfriend, I would go to the library, or to the lagoon to think.

I no longer resisted my father's efforts to bring me to Mirandus; I had friends here that I could spend the summer with and new ways with which to avoid Marko for days.

The very next summer, however, when we were seventeen, something happened that forced us together, and it changed us all. 


	4. Sails 1

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars 

)1)

The Scabrous Empire began invading planets in the Interstellar Alliance before the year ended, causing trouble for all of us. The Interstellar Armed Forces were called to action, and us cadets were asked to volunteer. There was no vacation in Mirandus for me and Dad that summer.

Lakan graduated with honors from the ISA, and his officers made him Captain of the RLS Celerity. He would have gone straight into battle and perhaps to his death had they not called him to escort a relief operations task force to the minor outlying planets in the Alliance. We all wondered why he wasn't sent to liberate Paterfa or Guidon like some of his classmates and secretly suspected that Dad had him moved to relief ops at the request of a certain royal family. But, Lakan did not protest and instead dutifully accepted the mission. Somebody had to do it.

I was one of the volunteer cadets and would have gone on the Steadfast, my father's ship, to serve alongside him. But he had me moved to relief ops, too. Unlike Lakan, I protested, but Dad was firm.

"I'm not going to lose you when I've already lost your mother," he'd said.

I'd answered, "But I want to be there if anything happens to you, Dad."

"If anything happens to me, Aaren," he'd replied, "it'll surely happen to you. And I don't want that." And that was that.

"There she is," Lakan said, "the RLS Celerity."

We stood at the bottom of the gangplank at the spaceport and looked up at the new craft. IAF ships are smaller and lighter than the huge space trade galleons and thus are their ideal escorts. These ships haven't changed much in design since the time of Dad and Treasure Planet, but they are faster and have better artillery and shields. We and the RLS Adept would escort the Montressor Blossom, which was laden with food and goods, to the outer planets that had been attacked and abandoned by Scabrous forces.

"The Celerity, huh?" I said, eyeing the ship. "Sounds like a vegetable."

"Or a famous person spelled wrong," someone put it.

I whirled around, nearly bumping into him. He wore a light blue, buttoned-up shirt and loose black trousers under a long black coat, and on his feet were a pair of shiny black boots. He had pale blue eyes, blue-black hair, a button nose, and a cheeky grin, with a dimple to the right side.

"What are you doing here, Marko?"

His grin widened, and he gave me a stately bow. "I'm a volunteer."

I raised my eyebrows. "I thought Princes were too good for this kind of thing, Your Highness," I said through my teeth. The only good things I'd seen in boarding the Celerity instead of joining my father were that I'd still be helping out during the invasion and that I wouldn't have to see Marko that summer. But here he was, in Montressor clothes and with that annoyingly smug look on his face - the look he reserved especially for me.

"I'm Prince of Mirandus," he answered simply, shrugging. "Mirandus, though insignificant and small compared to Montressor, is a member of the huge Interstellar Alliance. There've been devastating attacks on other members of this Alliance, and as is my duty - as, apparently, is yours too, Aaren - I have volunteered."

I scowled. All I could say in reply was, "If it's duty, Marko, then it isn't volunteering."

He only answered, "Nice uniform," and winked.

"Cut it out, you two," Lakan interrupted. "And get onboard."

So, we went onboard and below to stow our belongings in our quarters. My berth was far from Marko's - I was surprised he'd stay with the rest of us and not in a cabin of his own - but near Maggie's, and Maggie was my friend. I felt really annoyed, though, as I tossed my things into my locker and she sidled up to me to whisper, "Who was that?"

She was trying to stifle some giggles, and I frowned. "That's Marko: Prince of Mirandus and really big jerk," I snapped.

She snuck glances at him and blushed. "No kidding," she answered. Then, "You didn't say he was that gorgeous."

I snorted, slammed the locker door shut, and turned around. Marko leaned on the opposite wall with his arms crossed. He smirked and raised a hand to wiggle his fingers at Maggie and me. She tried again to suppress a giggle. I shook my head, rolled my eyes, and pulled her out of the quarters. "Come on," I said, irritated. "I think the Captain's calling."

We emerged on deck with Marko close behind. Sure enough, Lakan hollered, "All hands to stations and prepare to launch!"

In moments, the Celerity hummed to life beneath my feet. I looked around, hoping to catch Marko off balance when the ship lurched forward. I was unlucky. Not only did he seem quite at home and sure of himself on the ship, but some crates came loose and knocked into me. It sent me off balance and backwards across the deck, into him.

"Ouch," he said, quite calmly. "Why, it's Aaren Hawkins! What a pleasant surprise…"

I elbowed him in the ribs and began picking up the contents of the spilled crates - ripe yellow brubloos, and pale-colored ones that would ripen by the time we reached our destination. He got on his hands and knees to help me.

"No thanks, Marko," I muttered angrily. "You already saved me from crashing into the Captain's quarters."

He carelessly tossed some of the fruit into the open crate. "Gee, Aaren, I was beginning to wonder when you'd thank me."

"That's not gonna happen anytime soon, trust me," I retorted.

"Why, is it safe?" he answered.

He made me want to scream. Instead, though, I hissed, "Come on, Marko, tell me: why are you really here? I never thought anything like volunteering would stand in the way of a grand slam at the summer games."

He gave me that cheeky grin again. In an overly tender, fake and syrupy voice, he said, "Lakan told me you'd be here, and I thought I'd be miserable this summer without you." I raised an eyebrow. He laughed and did the same.

Just then, we reached for one of the fruits at the same time, and his hand covered mine. I felt the brubloo juice ooze out between my fingers; this one was rotten. For a few moments, we stared at each other, him smirking and me scowling. Then I snatched my hand away and smashed the rotten fruit into his royal highness's button nose.

He didn't shout, didn't throw fruit at me… Instead, he calmly wiped his face with his hand and flung the pulp off his fingers. His smirk had narrowed, but I saw a cold and taunting glare in his pale blue eyes.

"And I thought cadets had more balance, Aaren," he said softly.

)Author's Note)

Lakan's name is pronounced la-khan, with stress on the second syllable. And celerity is not a vegetable. ;) I use mostly abstract nouns or adjectives for military ships and anything else for private ships. Thanks also for the reviews. Here's something shocking: after rereading, I realized that there's an entire chapter in No Ordinary Voyage missing. I'll try to rewrite it soon - I can't retrieve the original text because my hard drive is fried.


	5. Sails 2

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars 

-Author's Note-

Finally, Christmas break! It can only mean more chapters to come. Thanks for reading.

)2)

The next day, I sat in the ladder-like rope rigging beneath one of the sails, thinking. However tiny the planet of Mirandus was, it had still been big enough for me to avoid Marko most of the summer. But on the Celerity, he seemed to be everywhere I turned...

"Whut shall we do wiv a drunkin spacer!" I groaned. Here came Marko's loud, off-key squawk as he swung aimlessly from mast to mast. "Whut shall we do wiv a drunkin spacer!" He looked and sounded as if he'd been soaked in a barrel of rum. "Whut shall we do wiv a drunkin spaceeeeeeeerrr - !" And he was murdering the chanty. " - Er-lye in the mowrnin'! Hello, Aaren." he finished.

He'd stopped on some rigging a few feet from where I sat. He grinned stupidly and hung by his right foot and arm hooked around the rope, spinning around a few times. I kept my face blank but hoped he'd fall. "Good morning, Marko," I replied curtly. "Have we been drinking?"

His expression changed back into his regular cold snarl, and I knew that moment that he wasn't drunk. I tensed and moved backward up the riggin a step. Immediately afterward I cursed myself, because from the gleam in his eye I knew that he sensed I was nervous. He looked me up and down. "I see you've changed out of your uniform, Aaren."

"This is a work uniform, Marko." I frowned and returned his look of appraisal. "I see you've gotten rid of yours." For there he was, in a Mirandus man's sandals instead of spacer's boots; his black trousers were rolled up to his knees and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. His menacing long black coat gone, Marko had unbuttoned his shirt completely, and it flapped in the breeze, exposing his torso, as he hung from the ropes.

He only laughed at my remark and leaped onto my ropes. It shook the ladder formation, and I almost lost my grip and fell. He laughed again and stared up at me as I recovered. "My, aren't we clumsy today, Cadet Hawkins?"

"Shut up, Marko," was all I could say.

He laughed and shook his head. That laugh was beginning to get on my nerves. "Shouldn't you be dining with the crew?" he asked, changing the subject. I clenched my teeth. He was infuriatingly calm, putting me at unease.

"I wasn't hungry," I answered. "And shouldn't I ask the same of you? Or is it beneath you to eat with the commoners?"

He raised an eyebrow and grinned evilly. "Aaren," he replied, "nothing is beneath me."

I shivered; I didn't like the way he'd said that. He was up to something. He casually turned over to sit on the rigging as I did, shaking the ropes again. This time, I was holding on more tightly. He leaned back and rubbed his chin in thought. Then he looked up at me over his shoulder and smiled. "What comes next, Aaren?"

What? I stared blankly at him, without replying, and wished that he'd just go. I wished that the crew would come out of the mess area and occupy the deck again; I didn't feel safe with just the two of us aloft...

"What comes next in the song?"

Of all questions to ask. I looked at him quizzically, and he laughed and shook the ropes. "Come on, Aaren! What shall we do with a drunken spacer?"

And he shook and wheedled until my blood boiled and I blurted out - "You put 'im in the longboat till he's sober! Happy?"

At finally getting an answer, Marko laughed and gave the ropes one last shake before leaping off to the first rope he'd hung onto... "That's right, that's right, Aaren," he answered. He grinned evilly at me and added, "You did think I was drunk when I came up here, didn't you?" I didn't answer. I could only glare at him, because his being up here, this conversation, and his teasing were only pointless. "Off to the longboats with me, then!" he crowed.

I froze. He boldly let go of the ropes and fell, catching onto some loose rigging and landing neatly on his feet. He made for the longboat bay. There was no one around to stop him - except me.

"Marko, wait!" I croaked. More cautious, I slid down the ropes as quick as I could and tailed him. "Stop!"

Once I got below, all I could hear were the eerie echoes of his cackle. This was not good. Some little bit of me screamed out that this was not good, that he was only leading me into something worse - but I had to stop him.

I got there just as he'd opened the hatch and loosened the ties. I stood on the edge of the opening as he winked and gave a mock salute. The engine fired. At the last moment, just before the boat could fully pull away, I jumped... and missed.

"Marko!" I screamed, hanging onto the edge of the longboat by the tips of my fingers. The boat dipped, and I abruptly lost my grip. I was floating, just beginning to realize in terror that I'd be lost in space, when I saw the boat go round. Marko reached out a hand and easily pulled me in.

I scrambled out of his reach, to the other end of the boat. "Are you crazy?" I yelled, gasping, trying to collect myself. I stared at him incredulously, and he threw his head back and laughed.

He didn't answer my question. Instead, he asked another one: "Do you remember when Captain Baewong used to take us out in one of the Javelin's longboats, and I threw her into a squall on purpose?" The light from the stars put a sinister twinkle in his eye, and I shivered. "You think I can do it again?"

My mouth dropped open in horror, and I shook my head. I was crying from the fear of getting lost again, and I'd lost the voice and words to plead with him. No, Marko, please, don't do this... He gave a whoop of triumph as he tossed the little boat into high gear. My stomach churned with every turn and drop of the longboat, and I felt as if I was going to choke.

My eyes were blurry with tears, but I could still see Marko. I lay crumpled on the floor of the boat and looked up at him from the corner of my eye... Marko was there, at the controls, his eyes ablaze. Bathed in the light of the nearby red nebula, with the wind in his hair and the deep, sinister laugh escaping his throat, he looked like a monster.

The boat looped suddenly, knocking me into the side. I blacked out.

--

All was still, save for the gentle rocking of the longboat. It creaked from side to side, like a cradle, and I slowly opened my eyes. I was stretched out beside the controls of the longboat, back in the bay. Marko was nowhere in sight. Groggy, I rubbed my eyes and slowly sat up.

"There she is!" he called suddenly. I looked around, and Marko stood on the platform. Behind him were Captain Lakan and a few others. He was pointing up at me, his face like stone. "She took the longboat for a ride. Guess she was bored." My eyes widened, and I opened my mouth to protest. Marko interrupted. "I tried to stop her. But she wouldn't listen."

He stepped back so that Lakan could give me a piece of his mind. But I blocked out the sound of his voice and the rest of the room. I could only see Marko in the back, arms crossed, shaking as he laughed to himself.


	6. Sails 3

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars 

)3)

Lakan leaned back in his chair with his boots up on his desk and stared thoughtfully out the window. There was a faint, sad smile on his face and a distant, melancholy shine in his eyes. He shook his head in thought. I sat across him dumbly, waiting for him to speak.

"Aaren," he said, addressing me by my name for the first time since we'd cast off, "I've seen you and Marko together over the years, so I know enough to believe you and not him."

Relief flooded me inside, but I remained neutral outside and merely nodded. He laughed in amusement. It wasn't a scornful, derisive laugh like Marko's, but a genuine, warm one. "Always the good cadet, aren't we, Aaren?" He took his boots off the table, straightened up for a moment, and then leaned forward across the desk. "That's another reason I know you didn't steal the longboat."

He rapped his knuckles on the table and frowned. "Which brings me to wonder why he'd lie to me like that..."

I raised my eyebrows, and he shook his head. "Marko has never lied to me before."

As my "punishment", Lakan sent me to work first at repairing the stolen longboat and then doing grunt work all over the ship. During my free time, he'd suddenly appear with a stack of books and say that they were full of information a cadet like me should know. I soon found that time to myself would be time to work on book reports.

Somehow, though, he was able to get the crew to believe that Marko had been partially responsible for the joyride after all and put him on duty in the galley. This was to Maggie's delight as she tittered and squealed every time she could about how sweet and helpful Marko was - she'd been working in the galley, too. And, it was also to my delight; Lakan had found ways to separate me and Marko for the rest of the voyage.

More things began to change, however. At first I thought that I was only imagining things. But it soon became clear to me and the others that Marko was losing his composure.

Maybe it was the lie. That was what I thought at first. One night, he'd walked into Lakan's cabin, whistling that moronic space chanty with a pleased look on his face. Much later, he walked out, seemingly distracted and puzzled. Some warm feeling welled up in me at the thought of Lakan giving Marko a talking-to, and it was I who wore the satisfied smirk that night. He caught me watching him, but instead of wiping that smirk off my face with some biting remark, he simply gave me and angry stare and disappeared into the quarters below.

Then I realized that it was not just the lie. It began to seem like such an insignificant thing compared to what was bugging him now. Horsing around with the crew became half-hearted. Maggie's gushing over his flirting decreased. And he actually began to leave me alone.

For the first time since the summer he turned his back on me, Marko was clumsy and absent-minded, losing utensils and breaking plates. I stopped reveling in how much he'd turned around and started wondering with the rest of the crew: what was going on?

In three more days, we would reach our destination. Lakan kept the whole crew up and about, checking and rechecking goods, assisting the officers on the ship we were escorting, and making sure we knew what we were going to do in those outlying planets. Marko only listened half the time.

That night, I came down from the crow's nest, just as my shift ended. All I had left to do was to turn in and rest till the next day. The deck was empty, and the only other man up top had taken my place. I checked around, to make sure that there was nothing amiss before going to sleep.

The light was still on in Lakan's cabin. And as I got closer, I could hear arguing inside.

"Where is it?" asked Marko. He sounded strangled, frantic, almost panicky. I puzzled.

Lakan replied, exasperated, as if he was talking to a child. "For the last time, I don't have it. It's yours, you were supposed to take care of it. Don't ask me. Go to bed."

I heard a frustrated moan, and the door burst open. Golden light spilled out of the cabin and onto the deck. Marko stood in the doorway, a dark silhouette. For a moment, I thought he was staring at me, but I couldn't see his eyes. He slammed Lakan's door and stomped off into the quarters.

I waited a few minutes, and then I followed below. I quietly got into my bunk and lay awake. It was then that I heard a soft, mournful whisper from across the floor.

"Where is it...?"

-Author's Note-  
It's been exactly a year and a day since I started writing. I feel it's a pity I wasn't able to get this up in time. I know I promised more chapters, but I guess Christmas and time with all the people I've missed got most of my time. Happy Holidays, and thanks for reading! :)


	7. Stone 1

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars

.1.

At last, we reached the fourteen lonely, outlying Lalita planets in the late afternoon, and we couldn't have done it at a better time. I forgot Marko almost immediately. Whenever we docked at Mirandus, we would tether the ship to an ancient tree and climb down to a warm - well, once warm - welcome from friends, with cheers for my dad and a crown of flowers for me. But at Lalita 1, we had to circle till we found a huge, heavy rock to fasten the Celerity to, and there was no loud laughter nor ecstatic squeal from the people. There were only the large, tearing eyes of a people robbed of the peace they'd once known, and several fell to their knees and sobbed. It made us, their relief, only wish that we had been quicker.

Dad had told me that the Lalita planets were a beautiful, pale blue, with its sky-colored grassy plains and mountains. The system's people - if you could call them people; they walked upright and used human speech but resembled black lizards with patches of multi-colored fur - had a peaceful, farming culture. Their lives revolved around the land they lived on. But the invasion of the Scabrous Empire left Lalita 1 a dismal, floating gray rock. I shuddered to imagine the state of the remaining thirteen planets of the Lalita system.

We were put to work immediately, taking our orders from the Captain of the other escort ship, the Adept. We first divided the relief goods aboard the Montressor Blossom into fourteen parts. In our longboats, we were to split up and distribute the goods among the fourteen planets. The Captain of the Adept, however, decided to keep the crew of the Celerity on Lalita 1.

The food had to be divided again. The Lalitans wouldn't need the clothing we'd brought; their scales and fur seemed to serve them well enough. If we'd known, we would have brought more food. We had to provide some form of medical support - but how do you care for a furry black lizard? We had to examine living conditions; were there enough shelters? We at least had to build our own; we'd be here for at least another month. And in that month, we were also supposed to help them rebuild their villages and restore their livelihood.

As Marko and I silently unpacked some of the crates - including the one that had started our voyage so beautifully - I couldn't help thinking that my dad was right in putting me in relief operations. There were other ways to help the Alliance combat the Scabrous Empire. I tried to give an encouraging smile to the Lalitan child curled up on one of the gray rocks.

Marko had seemed to regain some sense once we'd landed, and he'd simply and silently followed Lakan's orders without any accidents or pointed rude remarks. He seemed detached and went through his jobs like a machine, and when he was tired, he sat on the hard ground and leaned back against the rock where the child had perched. It crawled off and, once on the ground again, ran on its hind legs to its mother nearby. Marko had spaced out into a trance.

Trying to ignore him, I picked up the last crate and made for the platform where Lakan and the other officers were distributing the goods. Marko stopped me in midstep by pulling on my coat. Surprised, I turned to meet his blank stare.

"Have you seen it?" he asked weakly.

I shook my head, having no idea what he was looking for. He let go of my coat hem, and I continued on.

"Thanks, Aaren," Lakan said, taking the crate from me. "Now, at ease. Take a break." He looked over my shoulder at Marko, who was still staring into space by the rock. "I'll take care of him." I hadn't offered to get Marko back onboard the ship, but as I walked away, I realized I had been about to do it. I shook my head. The lizard child waved shyly at me on my way back to the ship.

Once onboard, I went below to stretch out on my bunk. From the pocket watch somebody had left on the floor, I learned that we had worked into the wee hours of the morning. Lakan had already sent my fellow cadets back onto the ship, and apart from their faint snores, I could hear the ticking of the watch on the floor. I didn't bother to pick it up.

I was supposed to collect my belongings so I could move into a shelter in a few hours, so I decided to skip sleep and restack Lakan's books first. "A Complete and Unabridged History of the Interstellar Alliance" had been the first. That had been followed by "Earth: Asteroid, or Former Source of Life?" and "The Life and Times of Broscatos MIV, Emperor of Scabrous". I still had to go through three more, but I doubted that I'd finish with the new work on Lalita 1. They were "The Montressor Scouting Handbook", "Scabrous as a Second, Third, or Fourth Language", and... I froze.

The last book was bound in Mirandus paper, and I puzzled as I ran my fingers over the clothlike off white cover. Scholars and scientists on Mirandus still used scrolls, so what I was holding had to be brand new and secret... Slowly, I opened the book and read the handwriting - for it was handwritten - on the first page. "By Felixa Helikos Simaun, Queen of Mirandus, with notes by Lord Lakan Helikos of Mirandus. For Marko, when you finally break out of your shell."

I blinked and turned the page. It was decorated with the black whorls and swirls that were similar to Marko's strange birthmark. In the center was the title: "A Short Biography of Marko Peter Simaun, Crown Prince of Mirandus". 


	8. Stone 2

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars

.2.

My fingers trembled, and I nervously licked my lips as I slowly opened the white book. Could this be what Marko had been looking for?

Tita Felix's black ink scrawl filled the first page:

"This is a work in progress about my son, Marko Simaun. It is a Mirandus tradition for family and friends of the royal family to write biographies of the next in line. While I've read the stories of those before me, I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose at how stuffy some of them sounded when the people have so many more stories about how their rulers were warm, real human beings."

"Hopefully, this book of my son will be the first of a similar kind: a story not of how he succeeded me or of the great things he did for the kingdom, but a peek into who he is as a person, a citizen of Mirandus, a child - " and here it was crossed out, changed to "young man" and then back to "child" again, " - like everyone else."

"Hence, this book is filled with notes, feathers, songs, pressed leaves, sand pictures, and things like that - including drawings by Marko's father, Leandro, Marko's cousin Lakan, or even by Marko himself. They are in no particular order. Maybe someday, they will be organized, or maybe the pages will be left the way they are. Either way, when this is finished, it will still be a book about my son, Marko Peter Simaun, who will be loved till long after we collide with our star."

At the bottom of that page, Tita Felix had added in a quick scribble: "302 Strika 5197 (June 3, 2140) - Marko joins the relief operations to counter the effects of the Scabrous Invasion, and Lakan takes over the book. For now."

I quickly flipped the pages and saw that Tita Felix was right. It was a book of notes and pictures in no chosen order, they were all about Marko. I was immediately curious. This was an atlas to the being of Marko Simaun, long a bane of my summers and now a tower quickly crumbling under the pressure of - what? This missing book? Some secret duty his mother had given him?

I sighed. I was tired, so I decided to read - if it could be read - his book later. But as I riffled the pages one last time, my name leapt out at me, and I stopped, surprised. Slowly, cautiously, I opened the book again, to the spread with my name. The only word I could see was my name, written in bold black letters in the center of the page. Around my name were sketches of me and Marko playing when we were kids. As I scanned each drawing, I saw how they gradually changed from pictures of our innocence to those of our constant competition and resentment for each other. On the opposite page were pictures of me alone, also arranged according to how I grew. I furrowed my brow. That can't be right, I thought. I'm not that -

I noticed that in the bottom right corner was a pressed flower that resembled a tiny lily. It was Mirandus's national flower, the estreya, which grew only in the planet's deepest jungle; white with tiny stripes of blue, violet, yellow, and green in the center of each soft, velvety petal. Somewhere in the background, I heard the tired steps of someone coming into our quarters, but I ignored it. Along the stem of the flower, I saw that there were six short words in faint and tiny writing, and I brought the book closer to my face to see...

The book was violently wrenched out of my hands. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Marko screamed. I looked up at him, stunned. His face was contorted with anguish, and he held the book closed and tight to his side. Was it my imagination, or was he fighting back tears? He closed his eyes and took two deep breaths. He was shaking. But when he opened his eyes, they were cold and steely again. He tucked the book into his coat and then stepped toward me. I was still on the floor, and I scrambled backwards, hitting the side of my bunk.

He knelt so that his eyes were level with mine. He said, more calmly, more softly this time, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Aaren?"

I stammered, trying to find my voice. I tried to tear my eyes away from his piercing, frost-blue gaze, but I couldn't. There was something, something besides fury and scorn in them, and I was trying to give it a name. I finally found something to say. "I - I didn't see the whole book. What I saw wasn't enough to - to - " He sighed and shook his head, and then he stared at me for what seemed like forever. In reality, it must have been only a few seconds, but I couldn't help wondering how much longer I'd have to suffer from its intensity. "What I saw wasn't enough," I said again.

He slowly stood up again and took a step back, and for a moment, he only watched me. "Regardless of what you say, Aaren," he said quietly, "I will not know what to believe about what you have and haven't seen in this book. And so I have nothing left to to or say to you except that you've won." I watched Marko as he spoke. He looked tired, resigned, and yes, defeated, but also angry. This was definitely a different Marko, and I couldn't make a sound.

"To you, Aaren," he continued, "it will be as if you've finally won. But to me, it will only be a reminder that you have always won against me." My mouth opened in surprise. What was he saying? "Good night, Aaren," he said. And without another word, without another icy stare at me, Marko turned around, climbed into his bunk, and closed his eyes.

After a few seconds in stunned silence, I did the same. But as I lay there wondering at what he'd said to me, it was I who cried myself to sleep, feeling just as defeated as he.

.Author's Note.

Strange stuff, no? If you've been reading this, I'm sorry to have been gone. Things here just took over... 


	9. Stone 3

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars

.3.

Morning found me alone in the quarters. Once I was awake, I was wide awake, and I rolled over on my side to look at the pocket watch, still on the floor. It was only six in the morning, Montressor time. I'd had about only three hours of sleep. But by the light coming in through the hatch and the heat that hung in the air, it seemed like mid-morning. I quickly washed up, pulled on my boots, and ran up the steps, Marko still on my mind.

The ship was empty except for Lakan, who was just coming aboard again. There were dark circles under his eyes. I doubted he'd slept at all, and with Lalita's shorter days, I doubted any of us would get a good night's sleep for a while. He smiled wanly at me and hoarsely greeted me good morning. I apologized for sleeping in.

"That's all right, Aaren," he said. "You should enjoy what sleep you get around here."

I smiled. "Don't you think then, Lakan, that you should go to bed?"

In midstretch, he laughed. "Even the Lalitans have told me that. They sent me back onboard, saying that they won't let me help till I'm well-rested." He yawned. "I put Marko in charge." I froze, and he gave me another wry smile. He sighed, sat down to lean back against the mast, and closed his tired eyes. "He tells me everything, you know."

The memories of the earlier morning were more vivid now, and I choked. I remembered how afraid he'd looked when he'd first torn the book away from me. I remembered how it had taken him a few more moments than usual to regain his composure, his hardened glare. I remembered how he'd made me the object of that chilling gaze, and how tired he'd looked. I remembered that in his eyes, there had been something besides fury and scorn, and I'd been afraid to give it a name...

Back beneath the hot Lalita sun, I looked at Lakan with his head against the mast. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, because I hadn't wanted to remember the whole thing, and I clenched my fists at my sides. "Why did you give me the book, Lakan?" I whispered.

He didn't answer for a while. I thought he'd fallen asleep, and I suddenly felt like screaming in anger at him. Why did he give me the book? Why did it make Marko act differently? What was I supposed to do about it? Why? Why? Why...?

He gave a tired sigh and pressed his fingers to his temples. "Aaren," he said simply, matter-of-factly, like a teacher exasperated with his pupil, "when I gave you those books, I meant you to read them and to learn something. That is all."

I felt my own frustration and anger welling up in me, and if I could have, I would have lunged at Lakan and torn him apart, right there. But Dad had always told me to curb my temper, to respect my superiors, and to just be a good girl. "That is all," he'd said. It infuriated me. I sat down and closed my eyes, too. It was all I could do from screaming.

"Aaren," Lakan said sternly, speaking for the last time, "You've had more sleep than I have, but you're crankier than me. Get off the ship already and report to Marko for orders."

I opened my mouth to protest, but then I saw that he was truly asleep now, still leaning against the mast, his brow still furrowed in anxiety.

I did as Lakan said and got off the ship. The crew was not nearby; I had to take one of the confiscated solar surfers to the blue mountains in the distance. There, Marko and the First Mate were supervising the digging of a cave shelter. I hopped off the solar surfer and took a deep breath. "Marko, I - "

"Good morning, Aaren," he said, cutting me off. "Today you're going to help Maggie and Sorula redivide the food." And that was it. I stared at him for a moment. He seemed preoccupied with the digging and the operations, but I knew that beneath the surface, there was something else going on. I sighed and then turned to Maggie and Sorula.

Sorula had glittering, beady, maroon eyes set in the sides of her head. Like I said before, Lalitans resembled shiny black lizards that walked upright. On their back, in what I thought were random places, were patches of brightly colored fur, the shades of which seemed to vary with every Lalitan. Sorula caught my curious glance and smiled, if lizards could smile. I got in line next to her and helped with the divisions.

Her voice was like a strange, velvety purring as she spoke, but her accent was faint. "The color and location of each bit of our fur tells others what kind of beings we are... Our souls color it as we grow." I raised an eyebrow at Maggie, who shrugged. "Blue and violet, like your eyes," Sorula said to me, "mean contentment; that all is well. Blue was the color of our grass, as it is the color of this mountain, before the Scabrous appeared." She gestured up at the mountainside, and my eyes followed her outstretched claw. Against the blueness were Marko and the others, and I shook my head and tried to focus on my own work. I tried to remember if I'd already put the right number of noodle packs in the crate before me.

"Pink is for innocence, and I am happy that many a child here still runs with those bright streaks on its back... Black is for anger or hatred. You will not find many of us with black fur here; we are a people of peace. Green is for pain or sadness," Sorula continued. Her voice reminded me of a longboat ride my father once told me about. The pace was constant, the world around was clear, and the trip seemed to stretch on forever...

"When I first saw your people," she said, "I thought your eyes could color like we do." I gave her a questioning look, and she stretched out her claw again to point at Marko. "His eyes are green," she said simply. I stared. "But I was wrong," she continued, "because your eyes are violet, when they should be green as well..."

I snorted and looked away, just as Marko glanced at me. I looked at Sorula then and saw that amid streaks of blue and violet were patches of orange and yellow. "What kind of soul are you?" I asked coolly.

She smiled her lizard smile. "An orange or yellow soul is wizened and empathetic. I can feel what others feel, and so I know what color you are." She cocked her head and gave me a hard stare. "Pink," she said, blinking suddenly, "and green. But perhaps yellow as well..."

She didn't tell me any more after that, though I knew there was a myriad of colors to go through. Now, as we worked, Sorula's words mingled with the thoughts in my mind. Her thoughts on Marko's eyes only matched the "pain" and "sadness" I'd seen in them earlier. And to know that she could sense what I felt was unnerving, and I knew she sensed my unease.

Suddenly, a question came to mind, and there was nothing I could do to stop it from leaving my mouth.

"What color is Marko?" I blurted out.

I later learned that the sound she'd made was a laugh, a series of clicks and purrs in her throat. She smiled again at me and answered, "Green, yes. Also pink, like you. Also blue-green, I think turquoise. Also like you."

Marko then called out that we should bring the crates into the cave, before I could ask her what blue-green meant, before I could ask her why it was "also like me".

.Author's Note.  
The fur color assignments don't necessarily correspond with our own standards of what colors mean.

I went back through my story and realized that I'd changed Marko's eyes from green to blue, like his father's, somewhere in the middle. Oops. Well, it aided the icy aura he wanted, but as the story progresses, I'll be changing it back to green...

Since the last chapter, there's been nothing but pile upon pile of schoolwork. Yikes. I'll wait for the summer, I guess. 


	10. Stars 1

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars

1

Our bodies could never adjust to the strange Lalitan day, so we took to working in shifts. While one group worked with the Lalitans, the other would sleep in a dark cave, to simulate the night. Somehow, I fell into Marko's group. I was never able to talk to Sorula again - she was placed in the Lakan's group, so the mystery of the soul-colored fur was never solved.

At any other time in the past, this would have been a horrible thing, having to work with Marko. But lately, there were many things I couldn't understand, and over time I pushed the memories of the mean things he'd done to me aside. Here, I was beginning to see the things he could do as a leader. I supposed he wasn't son of a king and queen for nothing.

He started to resemble Lakan in his most serious states, throwing himself into the work completely. He was like a machine, and it scared me. Every time there was a new task, his eyes would flash, and in a moment, he'd have a solution, delegate the work, and turn back to what he'd begun. Whenever I reported to him, he'd give me the same absent stare he'd given the others, his mind still on all the other things Lakan had put him in charge of.

Weeks passed. We decided that helping the Lalitans rebuild their shelters was the most important thing. We found that once we gave the Lalitans supplies, they were quick builders. They were determinedly scrappy, and sang as they worked. It was hard not to be humming some alien tune at the end of the day.

As the need for shelters diminished, we began studying alongside them how to bring life back to their fields. Many of the wiser, orange-furred Lalitans had stored pouches of seeds beneath the earth, and they gladly dug them out and shared them. The amount seemed barely enough to feed them all, and us spacers as well, considering we were going to stay for a while... But there they were, their claws outstretched, offering what they could to their people. Maggie cried, because they had the capacity to be happy with what little they had.

Soon the work became less and less, and as the first blue shoots began to poke up through the gray soil, the old Marko seemed to return. It didn't take long, I guess, for the Lalitans' singing to get to him, for soon he was joking over meals, horsing around with the crew, and running through the plowed fields with a bunch of lizard children skittering after him. If there was work, and he had to lead, he did it with cheery demeanor. I could tell that once again, he'd endeared himself to an entire planet.

As for myself, something seemed to rise inside me as I watched the whole thing happen. I was happy for the Lalitans, who, once given the chance to rebuild their lives, were a model for peace and contentment that I began to aspire to. And because of this, I found it in me to be happy for Marko. We were now suddenly far away from Mirandus and the petty competition of our childhood. Whatever pain I'd seen in his eyes, on the ship, seemed to gradually disappear as we spent more time on Lalita 1. The world was an all right place, despite the war.

I never talked to Marko, however, or at least not till the summer ended. I spent more time bonding with my fellow cadets, and the thought of returning to the academy never crossed our minds. Until we got the order to pull out, we were going to be here... Marko spent his time, if not with the Lalitans, with the crew of the Celerity. On both sides, the conversations began to reach past space, sailing, and orders, and into our dreams, desires, and beliefs. We learned from the lizard-people to simply be.

Something about the planet seemed to reduce everything about us into the simplest forms. If anything ever passed between me and Marko on Lalita 1, it was no longer a menacing sneer, a blank stare, or a rude word, but the simplest, purest, and truest part of a smile. 


	11. Stars 2

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars

2

One morning, I caught up with Lakan on top of one of the blue hills. He was writing and sitting cross-legged on a woven mat from Mirandus, probably pulled out from his cabin or the cargo - I hadn't seen something like it in a while. The colored concentric squares made me smile in memory of the exotic little planet. Inevitably I got to thinking of Marko and brushed away my thoughts. The past was past, I guess...

Lakan looked over his shoulder at the last minute and suddenly shut the book he was writing in. As I approached, I saw that it was what I'd come to call the White Book of Marko. It was too late for him to hide the fact that he was writing in it, but he could still keep the book itself out of reach. I could tell my smile was mixed with a curious look as I sat next to him on the mat. "Good morning, Lakan," I said.

He returned the smile, but in his eyes I knew he was searching me. We both knew I wanted to learn about the book. It had been a while since I'd last seen it in Marko's tightly folded arms... "Good morning, Aaren," he answered. "What's up?"

I shrugged. "Just wondering how you were doing, is all. It's the first time I've seen you since you split the crew up."

He smiled. "Yeah, well... There's just less stuff to do, so we're more free to do what we want with our time. I choose to write," he answered, twirling the ink pencil in his other hand and resting his fingers on the white book cover.

"Could I see some of your writing?" I tried feebly. He only laughed, and I let it go.

"Maybe someday," he answered, "when you're... ready." He was giving me that strange, analyzing look, and I tried to look away. He immediately changed the subject. "I hear your father writes, too. Haven't read any of his work, though."

I smiled. I hadn't brought up my father since joining the operation. I kept most of my thoughts of him to myself. "He started keeping a journal when he went on his first voyage since Treasure Planet," I said, "when he met Tita Felix. Your father was the Captain..." I trailed off there. Lakan had never known his father, who'd died in a meteor shower during that voyage. "Anyway, he's been carrying that journal around ever since. He used to read it to me on some nights, when I was smaller, and tell me about his adventures, and what school was like, and my mother." I never really knew her, either; she'd died when I was about two.

I suddenly wondered how my father was doing now... We were still, after all, in the middle of the war, and he and his crew, along with other ships in the Fleet, were probably still in battle. Or sailing home. Or not. "I wonder what he's written about now," I whispered.

Lakan nodded absently. He then pointed at the group of huts below. Sorula emerged from one of them, carrying a bundle of sticks. "Sorula tells me that the Lalitans are preparing for a wedding ceremony," he said. I looked to where he was pointing, and sure enough, a pair of black lizard people emerged after her, walking sideways, their claws entwined.

"They have weddings?" I asked.

He shrugged. "She called it the 'intertwining of roots, the formation of a new and single plant'. Seeing all these couples around, I guess it's a mass root-intertwining, too." He pointed to where Marko and some of the crewmen were playing with some Lalitan children. Perched on the rock beside Marko was another pair of lizards linking claws. I spotted another entering a hut and one more just at the foot of the hill.

The Lalitans were going to have a wedding. After the suffering they'd gone through, and all the hard work we'd done to help them rebuild their world, I guess there was nothing more fitting to close the circle than a ceremony that meant a new, harmonious life. I felt a faint smile appear on my face as I watched the Lalitan couples, their black skin glimmering under the alien sun, their many-colored fur shining as they began to comb each other... I had a sudden thought. "Lakan, what color soul are you?"

He laughed and smiled at the horizon. "So Sorula got to you too, huh? Well... She said violet, green, orange, and blue-green. How about you?"

I puzzled as I remembered her cryptic description of my and Marko's souls. "Pink and green, and yellow. And blue-green, too. And that Marko and I were almost the same." I answered. "What does blue-green mean?"

There was a surprising sparkle in his eye and an amused smile on my face. He obviously knew something I didn't. "Did she really say blue-green?" he asked. He chuckled and shook his head. "And that you and Marko have the same colors?"

"Why?" I asked, pulling at his arm. "Why? What does it mean?"

He said nothing, except, "She's really good, isn't she?" And then he shook his head and laughed again. Then he sighed and got up, picking the white book up with him. He looked thoughtfully, first at the book, and then at me. "Just how far did you get in the book?" he asked suddenly. "Because I know you saw something... Did you read the words by the estreya?"

I didn't answer. I didn't move. I was struck dumb by what everything suddenly implied. I stood up and got off the mat, which Lakan bent down and rolled so he could tuck it under his arm. Still laughing softly to himself, he left me standing there atop the hill. I stared dumbly at the people below. As if on cue, in the middle of the game, Marko looked up at me, smiled, and waved. 


	12. Stars 3

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars 

3+

Suddenly, the expression on Marko's face changed from a smile to a look of fright, and his cheery wave turned into a frantic one. He opened his mouth, and his cry was faint as it came up from the foot of the hill. "Get down!"

Lakan saw it first. He dropped down and pulled me to the ground with him. A second later, and I would have been hit by a... my eyes widened as I watch the alien black and violet craft circle above the Lalitan village. We'd been taught to recognize the bold markings on the strange longboat and the black spikes that studded it over. More importantly, we were taught to match those markings with the ones on the skin and armor of its crew. The Scabrous craft turned one last time and headed for us again.

"Run!" Lakan shouted, pulling me to my feet. Before I could regain my balance, before I could collect my thoughts, he tightened his grip on my wrist and forced me to run madly after him. I wanted to say something, I know I did, but whatever it was, I can no longer remember. I wasn't even looking to see where we were going; my eyes were riveted to the craft behind us as it swooped lower, closer, faster.

Then I felt a large, coarse arm around my waist, and I was wrenched up and away from Lakan and the others. I remember looking down at him as the shadow of the craft passed over him. I remember how he tried to run faster, his hand in the air, and how Marko was not too far behind. I remember how my scream was cut short by a rough set of claws closing over my face.

I wanted to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt heavy. My entire body felt like lead, and I could barely move. I heard a strange, machine-like humming. I tried to lift my arm, but I couldn't get it off the floor. I'd been lying there long enough, though, to deduce that it was hard and wooden. Making my hand creep across the floor was excruciatingly slow, but eventually I closed my fingers on a rough and rusty metal bar. Slowly, voices around me became clearer, and I managed a squint.

The tongue was as rough and alien as my cage - for soon I realized it was a cage - but it seemed that there was someone interpreting for another, gentler party...

"He says Lalita stays free for you."

"What do you mean?" Upon this, my brain began to awaken, though I still couldn't move. I knew that voice.

"He says Lalita stays free if you stay here!"

"Are you saying - "

"Alliance royalty hostage gains great ransom for Scabrous!"

I realized we were moving. The humming came from a ship. And though I began to feel my limbs again, I was afraid. On the floor, through the bars of the cage, I could see the strange, bright yellow light on black armor and black hairy feet. They were clustered around the cage, and I couldn't see much through them. There were two figures on their knees and one standing up, obscured by all the black bodies. I couldn't make out their faces.

"The Alliance couldn't care less about Mirandus!" one of them cried. "You could kill us and nothing would happen; over half the Alliance doesn't even know we exist!"

The interpreter relayed this to the rest of the crew, and there was grumbling all around. Then there was a loud thump and a fierce call, and all were silent. I couldn't make sense of the deep rumbling and - if that's what they called it - speaking. Then, the interpreter replied.

"Even better, says the captain! Your planet make good base for Scabrous forces! We stay hidden, on planet over half the Alliance doesn't know is there!"

Amid the horrible laughter, a vision of Mirandus, a gleaming jewel of blue and green, turn into a hive filled with the menacing hum of black and violet spacecraft. I saw her people fighting back and dying. I saw Tita Felix, the Queen, her eyes filled with tears as the people of the palace made their last stand. I saw them enslaved, forced to aid the Scabrous in worming its way into the innermost strongholds of the Alliance.

"I won't do it!" Marko roared. "I will never take you there! I would rather die than give my planet to you filthy - " I shuddered at a sharp crack, when he suddenly cried out in pain.

The interpreter was moving through the crew, toward the two figures kneeling on the deck. "You will do it," he said, "for the sake of your godfather!" There was a sharp gasp, and my eyes widened in horror as I realized who it was. "For the sake of your cousin!" The interpreter was moving now, and I saw him stab Lakan in the shoulder. Unlike the man beside him, Lakan couldn't hold in his cry of pain.

"Or," said the interpreter, moving toward the cage. The hairy black posts parted, and I gasped as I saw that the legs were human. Before I could continue wondering at this, I threw myself backward against the opposite side of the cage, just as the interpreter thrust a long, snake-like blade through the bars. At the same time, they threw Marko down onto the deck and pinned him there, so he could see me.

"Or," said the interpreter, "for the sake of the woman you love."

From inside the cage, and from beneath the heavy boots of the Scabrous, our eyes widened in shock, as if we were seeing each other for the first time.

.Author's Note. I have taken really long to update this fic, I know... I was stuck as to how I'd get it to this point and at this chapter. Don't worry; it doesn't end here, and for those of you who've read and reviewed, thanks so much. :)

Also, I usually use an asterisk between equal signs to signal a break in the story, but for some reason, they don't show up; I reread the story and discovered how where a short pause should have been, the story flowed right into the next part right away. I also tried a plus sign in place of an asterisk, or just the equal signs, but lately it doesn't work. I don't understand why that happens, and I'm not sure if that matters much to you, but I just like the breaks and felt like explaining. Cheers.


	13. Returning Waves

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars  
-Returning Waves 

At low tide, the water at the beach is so low and so far off that it comes up only to your ankles if you run out far enough. As the water goes down, the fishermen pull their boats up onto the sand and chat while cleaning the fish. If they're unmarried, they tease the girls who come from the market for the fresh fish. If they aren't, they play with their children, bouncing their sons and daughters on their knees.

My parents used to play with me at low tide, too.

When it's time for high tide, the sea doesn't just rise and rush to the shore. It comes in small but fast, clear green waves that can sound like cowrie shells being tossed together in a basket, or the applause of children. My parents used to tell me that the waves were greetings from all the turtles in the sea, all racing to meet me, their little prince. I'd be standing on the wet sand and squealing in delight as the first few waves began to climb up and swirl around my ankles.

It was around that time, my mother said, that she decided to begin work on the traditional biography of the next-in-line. My mother, having had contact with the outside, had a lot of ideas her old tutors thought unconventional, but since she was young and the queen, they let her be. So she and my father, and later Lakan, began writing, drawing, and collecting things for the story of me.

From this book I gather that I have always been quite a charming child - though it often gags me and some others to say so. The book says, contrary to what Aaren and I myself believe, that I have always been handsome, humble, smiling, and polite. As I grew older, I'd snort at the words and think, that's not me. That can't be me. Especially if Aaren hates me so much.

About Aaren... My mother tells me that as soon as I set eyes on Aaren (and I think I must have been one or two), I was smitten. I adored her and was enraptured to know she was running after me, wanting to play with me, laughing and smiling at me, me, me... To tell the truth, it's only when I was with her that I truly felt charmed.

Of course, Aaren only came in the summer with her father, Tito Jim. So during the rest of the year I'd have the other children to play with, my tutors to pester, and my parents to love. That wasn't really so bad. I suppose as a prince, whatever innate sense of leadership they say I was born with took over, and my friends would always ask me what we'd do next.

I reached the age where girls became strange, alien creatures, and I and my band of merry men began to cut them out of our games and adventures. I remember a war that lasted perhaps two months, with us in trees or behind hills - with ammunition of mud-filled fish bladders and large clods of dirt. The summer of that year, I realized how difficult I'd made my life when Aaren slid down the tree trunk and greeted me with her usual eager smile. My friends weren't too far off, and I knew they were watching me. I learned the meaning of the word "torn". So despite wanting Aaren to be in our games, for the sake of our "cause", I made her life miserable. For every summer after that. Including this one, I guess.

She was stubborn, really. So we couldn't play together. Fine. She'd be in the games along with the other indignant girls. And they were all quick, skillful, and smart. Sometimes they'd win. Sometimes we would. But all the time, I would secretly be watching her, and secretly marveling at how good she really was, how much her Mirandus friends liked her, and how pretty she was becoming...

Slowly, my friends and I got over the girl-hating. Just last year, a few of them began courting. And they started asking me when I'd do the same - begin a courtship. Would I finally pick one of the Mirandus girls who walked with us on the beach at night? Or would I finally talk to Aaren? Because they had known about my lifelong infatuation with Aaren Hawkins all along. Their teasing was unbearable, really.

And seeing her was unbearable. I felt so stupid for making her hate me. I could have been more mature, and told my friends that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to play with the girls. I could have given an apology, instead of my nightly gifts of slimy toads or smelly slugs. I could have told her outright how I felt about her, instead of having Lakan "accidentally" give her the book and have her find out like that... For all those years, my parents and my cousin had also documented my encounters with Aaren, and how to this day, I know nothing about how to get her to forgive me.

In the end, I helplessly fell back on making her hate me even more. I was rude to her, made fun of her, and scorned the littlest things about her. At least I had her attention to myself. But my laughter, and that of my friends, was only half-hearted. Apparently, only she wasn't aware of the truth.

In some manic attempt to once again have her attention, I drew her away from the Celerity once, in that turbulent longboat ride into the red sky. My heart pounded when I realized that she'd fallen. When I realized that she could be lost, and I'd be the reason. As quickly as I could, I turned the boat around and caught her in it. I did the strangest thing and laughed. I whooped and laughed, and Lakan says it was because I didn't want her to see how much I needed to cry. Weird. But I guess that would fit.

If I wish for a longboat ride in the night with Aaren, I imagine going at a leisurely pace, sharing some whispered conversation about the sea back home, or what life is like on Montressor (I still haven't been there). I hear a soft, laughing whisper, instead of her usual angry torrents of frustration. I feel the slight and gentle touch of her fingertips, instead of a slap in the face or a kick in the gut. I see her violet eyes, honey-colored hair, and gentle smile against the full majesty of the etherium, instead of sparkling tears and a trembling lip.

Before this summer began, before I joined the relief operations (more for Aaren than for the Alliance, really), and before we were captured, my father told me to put something in the book. I made some rough sketches of her, and then glued a dried estreya to the lower right corner. On the paper along the stem, in the tiniest hand I could manage, I wrote, "I only know that I love Aaren."

This business of books and journals has gotten us into a lot of trouble. Really. When I found out that my book was lost, and people on the crew would know my secrets, I became frantic and then dazed. When I found out that Aaren had it, and that she may have read the biggest secret of all, I lost myself and all fronts I'd been putting up. When the Scabrous captured Tito Jim's ship in retreat, they found HIS journal and found out about me. When they captured us, they found my book and found out about Aaren.


	14. The Weaker Part

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars  
-The Weaker Part 

The others and I are on the Celerity now. The Scabrous took only us, leaving our crew stranded on Lalita 1. We are prisoners on our own ship as the Scabrous pilot it away, toward the inner systems of the Interstellar Alliance. We can only pray that the Scabrous kept their word and left the Lalitans unharmed as we face our own fate. (Oh, the drama.) Yesterday they put us here in one of the smaller cabins. Aaren attended to her father's and Lakan's wounds while we talked.

Tito Jim related how he and his crew met enemy forces in a star system several jumps from the Lalita planets. The battle had been poorly planned - not by him, he remarked wryly - and they'd been forced to retreat. His ship had been boarded, and he and his crew had been captured. In the middle of this, one of his own men turned traitor and agreed to be interpreter for the Scabrous in exchange for his life. He was the one who'd explained what was in Tito Jim's journal when the Scabrous captain took interest. Intrigued by a chance to take Alliance royalty hostage, they sped back toward the Lalita planets immediately.

Lakan talked about how things had just gotten better for the Lalitans and how we'd all let our guard down. We'd all been lulled into thinking we were safe by the peace of Lalita 1 and her inhabitants. Nothing, he said, could have prepared us for the Scabrous's return... Again, he prayed aloud that the Lalitans had been left alone, though we doubted it.

I said nothing to Aaren. I spoke to Lakan and Tito Jim, telling them that the Scabrous were only giving us a night to decide what to do. If we didn't agree to lead them to Mirandus, they would kill the four of us.

I knew that for the sake of the Alliance, my death, and the death of Tito Jim, Lakan, and Aaren would prevent the Scabrous from reaching Mirandus. My home would remain untouched as it has for decades, the Scabrous would never establish their secret base, and they would not proceed to infiltrate the rest of the Alliance and bring about its downfall.

If I refuse to bring them there, they will kill first Tito Jim, who Aaren loves fiercely as her father and who has been the wisest uncle to me. Then they will kill Lakan, who has been the closest thing I've had to an older brother, who I've looked up to all my life. They will kill Aaren next, forcing me to see her suffering till her last. And then, out of frustration, they will kill me, for continued defiance after seeing my loved ones die.

It must be done, we all know. I'm a prince, so is Lakan, Tito Jim is a captain, and Aaren's his daughter and a cadet. I think we all know enough about noble, honorable deeds - sacrifices for the greater good. All these are made despite the loudest, shrillest cry of the weaker part of our hearts.

"Or we could escape," I offered.

A wry smile crossed Tito Jim's face, and he nodded at me. "Is there a map in this cabin?"

Aaren dug under the bunks and pulled out a dusty, copper-colored metal sphere. After the Treasure Planet incident, Dr. Delbert Doppler had spent some time with his mechanical genius cousin Albert, and together they'd recreated and then patented the sphere atlas. They and their families were now living off the royalties. Aaren now pressed firmly on the dark grooves, and threads of silver seemed to come spin themselves into a map as a flash of light opened the atlas of the etherium.

"Can we call you Captain?" Lakan asked Tito Jim.

The older man raised an eyebrow. "But this is your ship," he answered.

"Not anymore," I replied, "but we'll be taking our orders from you."

Aaren grinned and added, "If you don't mind. Captain."

Captain Jim Hawkins sighed and shook his head, but I could detect a faint smile, as well as a glimmer in his cobalt blue eye. He stared at the map thoughtfully. "We can't commandeer the ship," he said. "We can't take on 40 healthy Scabrous warriors by ourselves - though it would be fun if we did. The best we can do is steal a longboat or two and make for the nearest planet. It has to be the nearest planet if we're only in a longboat."

"Wouldn't they follow us there?" I asked.

"Not if it's an Alliance protectorate. An ARMED one." Aaren put in. "What's our location, Captain?"

A confused Lakan opened his mouth, and then he looked at our new Captain Hawkins, who laughed and nodded. "This is us," Lakan then pointed. "Us" was a blinking violet dot moving steadily through the map. Aaren handed him the copper sphere, and he pressed on one of the sides. Immediately, some of the floating planets became red orbs with white rings. "And these are the planets that are part of or protected by the Interstellar Alliance." He pressed again, and some of the red orbs now had gold rings. "These are the ones that have been armed since the Scabrous invaded. If the Scabrous are punctual, at the time of our supposed execution, we will be approaching Asimov Red, Asimov Blue, and this little rock, Ta - something. The name isn't clear, the place has been uninhabited since the terraforming of the Asimov sister system."

"Well done," said the Captain absently. Somehow, something about him suggested a heightened awareness, as if the mention of the Asimov planets had suddenly awakened something in him. I looked at Aaren, and I knew that she'd sensed it, too.

"Something wrong, Dad?" she asked. But he shook his head.

Lakan gave him the copper sphere, and he closed the map. He then went down on one knee and motioned us to come closer. "Now," he said, "this is what we're gonna do..."

Author's Note  
-Okay, I've decided to give Jim a slightly bigger part than background character and Marko a turn at narrating in this story. Thanks for the reviews, by the way. And I'm sorry I keep taking so long to update everything.


	15. We All Find a Way

Shells, Sails, Stone, Stars  
-We All Find a Way 

"Once, we commandeered a ship while the entire crew was asleep, knocking the night watch unconscious and drugging the rest..." said our new Captain. "But we don't have the right tools with us, and the Scabrous will still be up by the time we reach the Asimov system."

Captain Jim Hawkins stared thoughtfully at the wall. He was sitting on an old brown trunk across the bed, where Aaren was sitting cross-legged. I sat on the floor leaning against the bed, just at her feet. Lakan stood by the wall, the side of his head pressed against the porthole, his hand absently tapping at the casing.

"They aren't very smart, though..." At this, Captain Jim smirked. "Why is it that every time I'm captured, it's by a crew that isn't very smart?"

"Because you're a hero," Lakan answered.

Captain Jim hadn't really expected anyone to answer. But then he nodded at Lakan and said, "We all could be. We could go home, alert central intelligence, and help save the Alliance. Or we could die trying."

"Personally," I put in, "I'm for trying."

Aaren laughed. Surprised, I looked up at her and met her eyes. Her laugh softened, and then she cleared her throat and looked back at her father. I looked back at the Captain, too, just in time to catch him and Lakan exchanging amused looks. I looked back up at Aaren, who seemed to flush a little, but her expression was solemn. Obviously, this was no time to straighten out whatever was going on between us - if there was anything going on.

She gave her father an angry look, and he gave a mock sigh before continuing. "They should have locked us in the hull, because then there would be virtually no means of escape. But instead, they're the ones in the hull because they're just too big for the normal size cabins..." Captain Jim rubbed his chin in thought. "I wonder why Devon - " the traitorous officer " - never told them that..."

"I don't think Devon cares much which side wins in this," Aaren said pointedly, "he just wants to win something for himself."

"Someone has to block off the hull, bar the hatch and prevent the Scabrous inside from coming out," continued Captain Jim. "But then we'd need to get out of this cabin. How will we get past the ones on deck, I wonder...?"

Lakan cleared his throat. "Is there anyone big enough to fit through this porthole?" We looked at him, and he stepped away from the round window. He tapped once or twice on the wall, and the screws fell one by one to the floor. He caught the metal casing before it clattered after them. Meanwhile, the glass pane and the outer casing fell away, lost in the etherium. We were stunned, but the Captain laughed and clapped his hands.

He was quieted, though, when Aaren said, "I can." There were protests from the two older men, and quieter, inner protests on my part. It was too dangerous to let her climb out of the porthole - what if she was seen? What if she lost her grip? What if we lost her? We couldn't let her do it.

"You have to let me do it. I'm the only one who'll fit through the porthole. The Scabrous have let space barnacles collect on the sides; they don't care as much about maintenance as officers of the fleet. I can use them as handholds and move down to the longboat bay, work the hatch open, steal a longboat, and swing back for when you break out of this cabin."

"We're breaking out of this cabin?" her father asked dubiously.

Aaren rolled her eyes. "Dad," she said exasperatedly, "it's not like that'll be difficult for you." And at this, he grinned sheepishly. "You'll break out of the cabin and fight your way to the deck, and then you'll rush for the railing and jump off the ship."

"Excuse me!" exclaimed Lakan.

Aaren continued, "By then I should have brought the longboat around to catch you... Though maybe Marko should do it, he seems to be such an expert at piloting a longboat."

There was silence. I felt three pairs of eyes on me. I couldn't look at her. Finally, I said, "You're right about being the only one who'll fit through the porthole. You're right about everything." And there was more silence.

Aaren got off the bed. I'd crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked away, beginning to sulk and feel like a child. Before I knew it, the last I saw of her then was her left foot going out the window.

Captain Jim and I rushed to the hole in the wall. There was Aaren, several feet below us, clinging desperately to the huge barnacles just covering the name Celerity. She was biting her lip and fighting back tears, and I noticed that her hands were bleeding as she moved slowly, painfully from barnacle to razor sharp barnacle. It should have been me down there, and I was about to jump out the hole after her when the Captain put his hand on my shoulder. "I've taken note of her pace. In approximately two minutes, she will have reached the hatch. That's when we bust down the door."

I noticed that he was trying his best to keep solemn, but his eyes betrayed a troubled mind. We'd just thrown his only child, the most beloved, most treasured being in both our lives, out the window and into space. Nevertheless, he glanced at the old clock on the wall. After a few minutes, he put his shoulder to the cabin door. "On three," he said.


	16. Bandages

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars   
-Bandages 

The door broke against our weight, immediately capturing the attention of the two guards outside. I ducked as one of them struck out, but Lakan grabbed the arm and used it to swing up and kick the guard in the face. The guard dropped his weapon, which Captain Jim used to shoot the other one in the shoulder. This gave us enough time to run up to the deck.

There was a brief moment of astonishment on all sides as we emerged from below. Former Officer Devon, the Scabrous crew on all sides, and we all stared at each other, wondering what would happen next. The silence was broken by an angry growl by one of the injured guards, and instantly, there was pandemonium.

Captain Jim started firing. He looked at me and motioned toward the railing, and I ran. Before I'd taken three steps, four fully-clad Scabrous warriors surrounded me. Praying I'd be fast enough, I grabbed onto one of the weapons directed at me, and in anger the warrior swung me into the air. Shots followed, and I was clipped on the arm. There was no time to examine the wound; I just covered it with my other hand and kept dodging the other warriors. Lakan was somewhere to my left, and our Captain brought up the rear...

I slid across the deck, between the legs of one angry Scabrous. I had to scramble to my feet in order to avoid slamming into a spiked shield, only to duck again as someone behind me fired. This strange and dangerous dance continued across the deck as we made our way to the prow. Without looking back, without looking for Aaren below, I stood on the railing, closed my eyes, and fell.

And oh, what a fall. If I had ever regretted leading Aaren off the ship when the summer began, I regretted it a hundred times now. I knew what it was to suddenly be thrown out of touch with the real and the living. I knew what it was to feel the sharp teeth of isolation ripping through my gut. And then...

"Hey," she said, out of breath, watching me straighten up in the longboat. I couldn't rub my side where I'd hit the boat because I was still pressing on my wounded arm. I still felt faint from the fall, and I started to wonder why she didn't pay me back and laugh... She only looked at me sorrowfully for a moment, and then I watched her tighten her still-bleeding hands around the controls of the craft. We swung around and caught Lakan, who landed on his back. His face was pale, or at least the part of his face that wasn't covered by his shaking hands. And finally, we caught our Captain Jim, whose eyes were wide, but the rest of his face solemn.

"Get away from there," he said to Aaren.

"But Dad," she began, "you fell, it - "

"Don't 'but Dad' me, cadet, it's an order. I'll man the longboat." Then he looked at Lakan huddled at the prow. Miraculously, he was asleep. So he looked at me, and then at Aaren, and then said, "Attend to each other. Bandage your wounds."

Aaren and I stared at him. He paid us no mind and fixed his eyes on a spot past us, somewhere between the Asimov sister planets. We were speeding away from the Celerity as fast as we could, but we knew there was no chance of being followed. Captain Jim's heart seemed to be throbbing in his throat as he steered the craft...

"Ow!"

Aaren had pried my hand away from my arm while I'd been watching her father. She didn't look at me and started feeling for something to use as a bandage. I clutched my arm again, and then I watched her. Her long, honey-colored hair fell into her face, which had the same solemn expression as her father's, and the starlight hinted at the violet in her eyes. Then I saw her bloody hands scrounging around on the bottom of the boat. I suddenly felt angry for not doing anything till then.

I instinctively reached for her hands and closed mine over them.

"Marko - "

I didn't look her in the eye, I only looked at her sticky, quivering hands. I swear that somehow I could feel her heartbeat through her fingertips. I let go, and she didn't move. I took the knife from the small cupboard in the boat, took off my shirt, and started cutting it into strips. Aaren took one and tied it around the place I'd been shot. Slowly, I wound the rest around her palms, trying to be as delicate as I could with the person I'd tortured and been tortured by since childhood.

"Thank you," she said softly.

I shook my head. "No," I answered, "thank you."

That night, I felt a peace very different from the one I'd found on Lalita while I watched Aaren fall asleep. The longboat sped on.


	17. Foundation

Shells, Sails, Stone, Stars - Foundation

On Asimov Red, we rushed through the capital to the city hall. We must have been a sight, bloody and covered with dirt as we rushed up the marble steps and burst into the foyer, with Captain Jim in the lead. He made for the receptionist and asked to speak to the governor, identifying himself as Captain James Hawkins. He then disappeared behind a set of strong, heavy double doors. I was about to sink into one of the soft-looking cushioned benches to the side when security ushered us back out on the steps.

Lakan caught Aaren before she fell, and they sat down together on the steps. She was a step lower, with her head in his lap. I sat one step higher from Lakan, and I looked out upon the planet. The marble building stood towering above the savanna, with the city itself actually two or three miles off. I couldn't blame Aaren for wanting to collapse, or Lakan from closing his eyes and using the stairs as an albeit uncomfortable backrest.

"I wonder what happens now," I said aloud. In the distance, the heat was doing its mirage dance on the rooftops of the capital city.

"Well," Lakan said, his eyes closed, "the governor will give us a place to stay, some food, and a transport out of here... Though I dare say they'd throw us some small banquet if he believes our story."

I looked back at the doors of the city hall, which were thrown wide open to let the air in. One of the guards bared his teeth at me, and I stared right back. "Why wouldn't they believe our story?" I asked.

"Well, look at us," he answered. There were quite a few passersby who went in and out of the hall, and they gave us curious and even indignant looks as they passed. Here we were with our bloodstains and dry grayish dust, lounging on the clean and creamy marble steps of the governor's hall. Lakan smiled faintly, but I was embarrassed and chose to watch a grazing four-legged, horned creature instead. I shielded my eyes from the glaring sun, which was just beginning to reach the zenith. Only the slightest breeze caused ripples across the yellow grassland. Aaren, who still hadn't spoken, stirred slightly.

Just then, the angry-looking guard called down to us. "You there!" he boomed, pointing to Lakan, "The governor and his guest request that you join them in the conference chamber." I also got up to leave, but the guard added that it was just Lakan they wanted. Lakan pushed me into his place on the steps, giving me a turn at pillowing Aaren's head.

I looked down at her and watched her sleep for a few moments... Our bandages needed changing, our bellies needed food, and all of us were in need of a bath. I was tempted to wipe some of the dirt off her face, but then decided that she would wake. I went back to watching the four-legged creature, now joined by more of its herd. I vaguely wondered why they would graze so close to a busy area. But then again, Asimov Red didn't seem very busy at all.

Aaren turned, and my hand brushed her lips. I realized that while the grazers had hypnotized me, I had been stroking her hair. I pulled my hand away, but I held her questioning gaze for a few moments. I stared into her violet eyes, and it occured to me that she still hadn't made a movement to lift her head from my lap. Before I knew it, I gave in to a magnetic pull as I bent over her, closer to her face...

"My children!"

Aaren sat up quickly, and my head whirled around to see a huge creature clad in a blue and purple long tunic and a round, flat hat. His smooth, gleaming skin shone black like ivory, and his eyes were shiny orange marbles the size of my fist. They peeked out above a short snout and white tusks tipped with gold. "Get up, my children," he said grandly, "get up, get up!"

Aaren and I quickly rose to our feet. He held out his hand... Unsure of what to do, I did what was customary on Mirandus and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead in respect. He gave a great laugh, pulled Aaren closer, and kissed her on each cheek. Lakan and Captain Jim looked on in amusement.

"I am Governor Zafia! Tonight, you shall stay in my palace. Come, I am sure you are in need of rest and medical attention."

He roughly put his arm around Aaren, and he led the way with her father. Lakan dropped back to speak to me.

"Is Aaren okay?" he whispered, concerned.

"Yeah," I said, dazedly. "Why?"

He smirked. "That's good. Because for a moment there, it looked like she was going to let you kiss her."

I looked back over my shoulder. The startled grazers had long since bolted.

Author's Note: Wow, it sure seems like such a long time since I've updated... I don't blame you all if you don't read. But thanks for getting this far. :) 


	18. Best Behavior

Shell, Sails, Stone, Stars - Best Behavior

"I was not going to kiss Aaren," I hissed.

Lakan hummed with skepticism, and pushed me aside to adjust his cuffs in the mirror. The governor had been kind enough to send for Montressor clothes - not all the way to the trading planet, of course, but to one of the local stores. We bathed and pulled on clean, white collared shirts and black slacks. There were black shoes in the corner, newly buffed. Lakan remarked that we looked like we'd be waiting tables that night, not sitting at them.

"I was leaning over to look at the - the - what-do-you-call-it - gazelle," I insisted lamely. I pushed him back and recaptured the mirror.

"I'll bet," Lakan said, grinning. He sat down on one of the beds behind me and pulled a shoe over his socked foot. "Graceful little thing, am I right?" He laced up the first shoe and reached for the second. "Makes you want to follow the creature around all day, just to see how long you can go without scaring it off." I mumbled some acknowledgment, preoccupied with a patch of my hair that wouldn't lean the right way. "With those huge, shy eyes..." The tone of his voice was transporting me back to that afternoon, when we'd been on the steps. I tried to ignore him. "...and soft goldy fur."

"Hair," I answered absent-mindedly.

"What's that?" Lakan asked.

"Aaren doesn't have fur, it's hair." The words had flown out of my mouth before I knew what was happening. My hands stopped fussing with my collar, and I stared at my reflection, refusing to look at Lakan. He slapped me heartily on the back before strolling out the door of our room.

"Ah, Marko," he tossed back over his shoulder, "I thought we were talking about the gazelle."

I sighed in exasperation and stepped deliberately toward him, and once in the doorway, I said, "Listen, Lakan, if you say anything tonight that embarrasses me, or puts me on the spot in any way, I swear, I'll - "

"Are you all ready?"

I faltered as Aaren appeared in the hall, just to my left. She was dressed in a simple white shift and had a string of black beads resting on her collarbone. She smiled. "Is it just me, or do these clothes make us look like a couple of waiters?"

"Oh, definitely a couple," Lakan said. "Of waiters." I threw him a dirty look.

Aaren didn't seem to notice and turned to disappear again at the corner. "Anyway, Dad's been waiting several minutes now, so you guys better hurry if you aren't ready yet..."

I ducked back into the room to grab my shoes, and Lakan stood leaning in the doorway. "Lakan," I began.

"Oh, Marko," he interrupted, "it's all out in the open now... I can put you on the spot all I want." I roughly thrust my foot into my shoe. In a more serious tone, Lakan asked, "Are you going to formally court her now?"

I snorted. "What makes you think she wants to be courted? And by me, after everything I put her through?"

He shrugged. "Well, you have been on your best behavior since Lalita 1. I know everyone else appreciates that. I certainly get the feeling that she had to rethink her impression of you while we were there..."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "Did she say anything?"

He only grinned and checked his watch. "Come on, Marko," he said, pulling his shirt cuff over his wrist, "we can't keep Tito Jim waiting."

-o-

We were seated by the governor at dinner. Governor Zafia had his wife to his right, and Tito Jim sat next to her. The eldest son was to the governor's left, and Lakan sat next to him. I sat next to Lakan, and across Aaren. She had been placed next to her father.

I had to apologize for not eating as I didn't have much of an appetite. My great-grandparents, who were kind and queen of Mirandus before my parents, would have told me that the dinner was an excellent time to meet all kinds of dignitaries and establish connections for the future. But I was almost rudely quiet that night, not paying attention to the conversation and picking at my food. The general next to me gave up trying to hold a conversation with me after a few minutes.

Aaren, Tito Jim, and Lakan, however, had charmed the entire party. As spacers, they talked of how life was at the academy and how the journey had gone from Montressor and Mirandus to Lalita and to Asimov Red. Lakan and Tito Jim described life on Mirandus in great detail as well. And, of course, there was a retelling of Tito Jim's discovery of Treasure Planet. They seemed so dazzled by them that I felt like withdrawing even more - some Crown Prince of my planet I was if I couldn't hobnob with the diplomats. And, I had to admit, I was jealous that Aaren had spoken to everyone at the table but me...

"Marko?"

Ah.

I looked up, shaken from brooding, and saw Aaren giving me a questioning look. She said, "The governor's son, Zafia II, would like to give us a tour of the palace grounds. Would you like to come with us?"

Zafia II, Lakan, and the general who'd sat next to me were already standing up. I nodded absently and quickly stood up, banging a bit into the table and causing my plate to jump. I felt the blood rush to my face as I quietly excused myself and quickly moved to join the tour. As we left the hall, I heard the governor's wife say albeit hushedly, "For a prince, that young man seems quite clumsy, doesn't he?"

I shook my head as I caught up with the others outside. Thankfully, the night air was quite cool. I loosened my collar and rolled the cuffs of my shirt up to my elbows. I stuck my hands in my pockets and tried to relax. I walked slowly behind the group, following their pace, but just far behind enough to collect myself.

The gardens were within the walls of the palace grounds; outside those walls was the hot yellow grassland. Here, however, the grass was green, and there were all kinds of trees, shrubs, and flowers. Tame animals gamboled about, some of them on leashes. Set in this miniature forest were narrow rock paths, wooden bridges, and several ponds and fountains. There were little golden lanterns set along the path and among the bushes.

Lakan whispered something to Aaren over Zafia II's description of the fountain in the frog pond, and she stopped, turned, and waited up for me.

"Lakan wants to know if you're feeling all right..." she said quietly.

I frowned. "If he wanted to know that, he'd ask me himself," I muttered.

"Then you aren't all right," she said. "In fact, you haven't been all right since Lalita 1."

I raised an eyebrow and smiled a little. "Oh? But I've been on my best behavior, Aaren." In front of us, Lakan sneezed. "Though for old time's sake, I'm sure I can arrange for one of these frogs to accompany you to bed tonight." I pointed toward the pond, and she laughed. Then her laughter receded into a shy smile, and she looked absently at the pond. The golden lantern light was bouncing off the water and onto our faces.

I found that I couldn't take my eyes off her face, and her eyes went back and forth across our path, as if searching for something. Then, she looked up at me, took a breath, and said, "We need to talk."

"Oh, dear," I said. "Whatever about?"

She gave me a pointed look. "Don't give me that, Marko. This isn't supposed to be funny." Actually, I was a bit surprised at myself. Since Lalita 1, I'd been quiet and withdrawn; more serious than ever before. Aaren apparently brought out the arrogant beast in me.

"I'm sorry," I offered. "Force of habit?" She sighed and didn't answer. I spotted a bench hidden in the shrubbery and sat down, motioning for her to do the same. She hesitated before finally sitting down, but you could have fit Long John Silver between us on that bench. And you could cut the tension with one of his cyborg knives.

"We need to talk about... everything. Mirandus, the book, Lalita..." she left off, and I knew she was uncomfortable.

"You want to talk about my being in love with you," I said bluntly. "Is that it?"

She flinched, and I regretted saying anything immediately. Her expression hardened, and she stared at the rock path in front of us. I stared at her, strangely fascinated by how anger slowly crept into her eyes... I suppose since childhood, I had always been intrigued by the way I made her feel, though I realized it only then in the garden. It was almost sick to say to myself, but my bullying her had not only been my way of getting her attention, but also my way of seeing how much I could affect her. And I was drawn more strongly than ever to this game.

"I wish you weren't so direct, Marko," she said at last. She still stared coldly at the ground.

I pressed on. "Why shouldn't I be? I should be as direct as I like, Aaren, and you're going to listen to me, whether you wish it or not." She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. In plain, firm tones, I told her, "You wanted to talk about this, so don't be such a girl about it and let's get it all out in the open. I love you. I'm in love with you. I've been secretly after you since we were four, and don't you dare think that I will stop after this, Aaren. You have no idea what I go through every time I see you, every time I don't see you, every time you speak, every time you are quiet, every time you laugh, and every time you kick me in the gut, only because I'm just as unbearable as you are. I'm in love with you, Aaren Hawkins, and I don't think it can get any more direct than that."

She abruptly got off the bench, turning her back to me. "What's wrong with you?" she asked, softly but vehemently. I had moved to get up, but I sat down on the bench again, surprised. As she spoke, she kept her back toward me, yet by the quaver in her voice that seemed to run throughout her body, I could tell that she was crying. Shaking only very slightly, she pushed back a few tendrils of her hair, and her hand stopped delicately on the curve from her neck to her shoulders. Her other hand was drawn across her waist. Both hands were in short gloves, to cover her bandages.

"I wish you wouldn't say things like that, Marko. Especially when I can't believe them."

Now, my mouth fell open. "What do you mean, when you can't believe? What's so hard to believe about my being in love with you?" I asked. Suddenly, I was angry at how fragile she looked and how terribly I was handling things - how I didn't know when to quit.

She turned and waved a hand at me, stepping backward. Her face was streaked with tears, turned into golden drops in the lantern light. "Everything! Everything is hard to believe when I'm afraid!"

"What are you talking about?" I stepped closer to her, desperate to close the gap she kept widening with every step she took backward.

"You've played terrible games with me all these years, Marko Simaun. After all this - the longboat ride, Lalita, the book, how you bandaged my hands - how you've behaved this whole bloody summer... I'm afraid that this is still a game to you."

My eyes widened, and I raised an eyebrow. I stepped closer toward Aaren, and she found that she could no longer move backward; there was a pond right behind her. I moved slowly until my face was inches away from hers, and I sneered down at her. "Why would you be afraid of believing me, Aaren?" I said softly. "Why does it matter so much that you don't want to be played?" I took hold of her hands and held tight, no matter how they squirmed against my fingers. "Why does it matter, when long ago, I believed that I didn't matter to you?"

Her tears kept rolling down her cheeks, and as I had her hands fast, there was nothing either of us could do to wipe them away. "Marko," she whispered, frightened, "please. Let go of me."

"I won't," I said angrily, "not until you tell me that you believe me."

She tried even harder to pull away, but I held fast. "Marko," she said, her voice getting frantic, "I can't."

"Fine," I said. I released her hands, and she darted out from in front of me, to my side. But before she could move farther away, I grabbed her elbow, pulled her even closer to me, and kissed her.

Aaren struggled, but I wouldn't let go. I held her close; I finally had her in my arms, and I was not planning on letting go soon. I'd been wondering for years what it would be like to hold Aaren Hawkins like that, and it was more than I had ever dreamed of. And miraculously, she stopped struggling, finally giving in to the kiss. Her hands found their way to my back, and she held me close just as I wanted to hold her to me forever. I heard her murmur my name, and it had never sounded so wonderful to me. There was nothing that could ruin this moment - our moment - in the golden evening lantern light...

Except me.

I pushed her away suddenly, breaking the bond. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't bear the sight of her, of the passion that had rushed to color her cheeks, of the tears that until now, had not stopped flowing... She looked surprised, and I rudely swept my hand across my lower lip as I stared at her.

"Now, Aaren... Now I know that you believe me."

I roughly jerked at my collar and turned to storm out of the clearing. It was, however, Aaren's turn to pull me back to her. And there was a ringing slap that seemed to echo across the garden. I immediately put my hands up to cover my face from another attack, but she punched me in the stomach instead, throwing me off balance. She then pushed me into the pond and disappeared among the trees. 


End file.
